


May You Bloom and Grow

by ProsperDemeter



Series: 20 Days of Holiday Fics [18]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Bruce Wayne is doing his best, Clark Kent is the Best Uncle, Dick Grayson is Robin, Dick Grayson is a Ray of Sunshine, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:54:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28157886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProsperDemeter/pseuds/ProsperDemeter
Summary: Dick was ten when Bruce came to Clark and Diana and told him that he had taken on a trainee apprentice.Diana thought nothing of it, of that Clark was sure of. It hadn’t crossed her mind who the apprentice was because how could it? Bruce was reckless but he wasn’t an idiot. He wouldn’t put a kid in a costume and have him beat up the bad guys of Gotham.Only Bruce told them the trainee was going by the name “Robin” and Clark knew - he knew - who Robin was.
Relationships: Clark Kent & Bruce Wayne, Diana (Wonder Woman) & Clark Kent & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Clark Kent, Dick Grayson & Selina Kyle, Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne
Series: 20 Days of Holiday Fics [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035498
Comments: 21
Kudos: 140





	May You Bloom and Grow

**Author's Note:**

> 18 :)
> 
> When did this become a series? I genuinely have no idea. But enjoy anyway. 
> 
> Title taken from the song Edelweiss from The Sound of Music.

Dick was ten.

 _Ten_. Clark had known him for five years at that point, had babysat him more times than he could count, had watched him get taller and taller but still be incredibly slight. 

_Ten_. His voice hadn’t even cracked yet. 

Dick was _ten_ when Bruce came to Clark and Diana and told him that he had taken on a trainee apprentice. 

Diana thought nothing of it, of that Clark was sure of. It hadn’t crossed her mind _who_ the apprentice was because how _could_ it? Bruce was reckless but he wasn’t an idiot. He wouldn’t put a _kid_ in a costume and have him beat up the bad guys of Gotham. 

Only Bruce told them the trainee was going by the name “Robin” and Clark _knew_ \- he _knew_ \- who Robin was. How could he not? Dick had told him in their game of secret for a secret that Robin was what his parents used to call him during training sessions. Clark had been the one to call him _birdie_ even. And it was wrong. It was so very, _very_ wrong. It was wrong enough that Clark had been, apparently, _too quiet_ for the situation and Diana and Bruce were looking at him stoic and worriedly. “Kal?” Diana touched his arm softly, gently, yet still strong in case she need it be. She gazed at him in concern. “Do you hear something?” 

He couldn’t hear _anything,_ actually, beyond Bruce’s _Robin_ and Dick’s _Uncle Clark_ and boyish laughter. “This is _insane_ , Bruce.” Clark finally found his voice and the other man stayed stoic, impassive, unanswering the accusation between the words. 

“Kal?” Diana pressed again. 

“He’s _ten_ , Bruce!” Clark shrugged off her hand and made for the only born, bred human of the three of them. Bruce sent him a look that had his steps stuttering. After all, Bruce may have been Clark’s friend, may even consider Clark _his_ friend, but he wouldn’t hesitate to put an end to him if he had to. And he _could_. Everyone knew that. 

Diana looked between the two of them, confusion on her tanned face and brown pony tail slapping gently at her chin. “What are you talking about?” She asked in a quietly accented voice. Diana, whenever she got quiet, meant one of two things. Either she _had_ to be quiet or she was coming to a conclusion she didn’t quite like. “Who is ten?” 

She knew who was ten. 

“He’ll be making his debut tonight.” Bruce said it as though there was no argument to be had. 

“ _Bruce!_ ” 

“I would appreciate your… support on this.” It looked uncomfortable for him to even say such a thing and Clark wanted to _tear his hair out_ in frustration. 

“I can’t support this.” He said the words desperately, begging with his voice and all of their years of friendship - of _working_ together - that Bruce could hear what he was truly asking in his voice. 

If he could, and Clark didn’t doubt that Bruce _could_ even if he didn’t want to acknowledge it, Bruce said nothing in turn. He set his jaw and turned to Diana instead. “And you?” 

Diana was silent for a long moment, glanced between the two of them and tilted her head in wonder. If she didn’t understand who or what they were talking about she didn’t make any inclination. “What of his training?” 

“He has been adequately trained.” 

“By _who_ , Bruce?” Clark threw up his hands in frustration. “By _you_?” 

“Yes.” Bruce bit out through the frustration that was clear on his face. “And Selina.” 

“ _Selina_ knows about this?” Clark swallowed his own frustration. This fight, he knew, could make or break their friendship and he didn’t want that, even at the expense of Dick’s safety. There was no winning a fight with the Batman. There never _would_ be winning a fight with him. If he was giving Bruce information he didn’t want then Bruce would simply look in the other direction and think on it later. 

“Contrary to your belief, Clark.” Bruce said after a moment of their silent staring contest. “I wanted this less than you.” 

He didn’t think on it until much later. 

Until he had left the Watchtower in a flurry of his red cape and stormed home. Until he had punched a whole in several trees, gone into space just so he could yell where no one would hear him, and until after he had broken his phone pressing too hard on the buttons to write a message to Lois that contained his many complex emotions on the matter at hand. He bent over his broken phone - snapped in half - and then threw it to the ground to grip at his hair instead. Clark was many things but a father wasn’t one of them. 

As someone that _knew_ Richard John Grayson, perhaps better in some ways than Bruce did, he felt he should have been prepared for the announcement. He was a smart child, a capable child, and an _angry_ child. It hadn’t been as obvious when he was younger. When Dick still barely spoke English and was drowning in trauma, it was very difficult to see his anger as anything but an expression of his mourning. But as he grew older Clark supposed he should have seen it. The child had _seen_ someone loosening the wires on his parents. He had pointed him out, had told the police, had told _Clark_ , and was told over and over again that his parents had died of a tragic accident. As far as he could see, no one was doing anything to bring the events to justice. 

Clark supposed no one understood that frustration better than Bruce. 

Still, the announcement seemed… premature. Surely, Bruce could have pushed it off. Surely, he could have stopped him. Stubborn as Dick was he was still a _child_ and a child had to listen to what their guardian told them to do. 

Except Bruce refused to see himself as the parent he actually was. The idea _terrified_ the man to his very core. He didn’t take to the title _dad_ the way Clark took to _Uncle_ . Bruce had never seen himself as a parent, Clark knew. He had never wanted that for himself. His lifestyle, his name, his _mask_ was too dangerous for a family. 

So why start one, Clark wanted to ask with force, _why start one_ if he was only going to put the child in danger the moment he demanded it? 

\--

Gotham, as it usually was, was cold when Clark touched down on it and he let himself into the Batcave with an ease that he was sure he wasn’t actually meant to have. It was early enough that he knew Bruce hadn’t left for the evening patrol yet and so Clark told himself he wasn’t shocked to see him there, without cowl and black Batsuit draped down his body. Alfred wasn’t there but Selina was, her own sleek Catsuit hugging every single one of her curves and a frown on her sharply angled face. Clark would have said that he didn’t mean to eavesdrop but that would have been a lie. “He’s not ready, Bruce.” Selina whispered ferociously. “Just wait another… _eight_ years.” 

He looked amused, _amused_ , when he looked at her and Clark thought that perhaps he could see it - just how much Bruce cared about her but refused to say. _That_ look was why she stayed without words from the man himself. She could see it too. She had to be good at seeing things, though, for her chosen profession to treat her as well as it did. “You can be the one to tell him that he has to wait.” 

Clark pursed his lips, tight, and raised a fist to knock on the wall when something small, bright, and strong collided into his legs. “Uncle Clark!” He sounded much older than he did when Clark had just met him. He didn’t have his original accent anymore unless it was on certain words and he had just gotten a haircut. 

Selina jumped at the voice but Bruce didn’t. He had known, then, that Clark had arrived. Of course he had, Clark snorted, he probably had proximity alerts set up everywhere to tell him when a meta entered his city. Or at the very least satellites. “Hey Dick.” Clark tried not to let the tension fall into his words when he greeted the boy. 

And he tried not to let any of his emotions show on his face when the boy let go of his hug to strike a pose for him. He was in an extremely bright suit, black, red, green, and yellow. He had a domino mask on, not unlike the kind Selina wore minus the cat ears. He had a full and bulky gear belt strapped to his waist and the widest smile Clark had ever seen on his face. He looked so very grown up. 

Clark blinked and the red on the suit wasn’t simply fabric anymore but, instead, blood pouring out of his small body. He wondered if that was what Bruce saw whenever he looked at him or, perhaps, did Bruce not see any of it at all? Dick closed a hand on his own and pulled to get his attention. “What do you think?” He asked eagerly. “Do I look _cool_ or what?” 

Cool. 

No, Clark didn’t think he looked _cool_. 

Still, he smiled a tight lipped smile for the boy and nodded, his arm wrapping tight around his shoulders and brushed a hand down the back of his cape. Thick like Bruce’s, probably made out of the same material too. His suit was padded but sleek enough not to hinder his movement, and his _smile_ . Oh his _smile_ had always been its own brand of kryptonite. Clark thought he got it, maybe. Bruce would do anything to keep that smile on his face and Clark had unintentionally made that own vow himself years before. “Super cool.” He said with fake enthusiasm. 

The boy didn’t catch it and flipped expertly into a back handspring until he landed directly in front of Selina, her hands steady on his shoulders. “Are you sure you’re ready for this, Dick?” She asked softly, her lips, a dark red, pressing a lingering kiss to his forehead. It didn’t leave a smudge and it was the most motherly Clark had seen her be. 

Dick met her eyes squarely with his own and nodded in a clipped manner. He shared a look with Bruce over her shoulder and Clark didn’t miss the way the other man’s lips tilted up into a smile that looked a bit more like a grimace. “I’m sure.” Dick said it confidently and pressed his own kiss to Selina’s cheek in response. “Are you coming tonight too?” 

“I have my own business to attend to.” She said with a hand petting back his hair. “But I look forward to hearing all about Robin’s first day on the job.”

Dick smiled as brightly as he always did and Clark felt as though he were watching a corruption of innocence that, perhaps, hadn’t been there for a long time. “Are you staying in Gotham?” Bruce asked him and Clark couldn’t meet his gaze. 

“For tonight.” Clark would like to keep an eye on the boy, would like to make sure that he _was_ good enough to be out on the streets and would very much like to be sure that nothing would happen to him while Clark could stop it. 

Bruce, who obviously didn’t like having a meta in his city that wasn’t native to Gotham, didn’t say anything to push him away for once. He, instead, gave him a short, clipped nod and slipped on his cowl. “Don’t get involved unless you’re needed.” He ordered but Clark heard it for what it was. Unless _Dick_ needed him. Bruce could get slaughtered but if Dick was fine then Clark wasn’t to get involved. 

He took a deep, steadying breath and nodded his consent. 

Watching them leave was, perhaps, one of the hardest things Clark had ever done. Not grabbing Dick by the cape and whisking him off somewhere he could be safe was more difficult than accepting that he wasn’t human. Clark had done many hard things in his life but being quiet and staying back while Dick, in a bright suit but still _Dick_ , jumped from rooftop to rooftop in step with Bruce was one of the most difficult. If he had started to cry he told himself it was because of the chill of the wind as it hit his face and not because he felt there was nothing more he could do to stop this. 

He wasn’t sure _when_ but at one point during the night he had stopped looking at _Dick_ and started looking at _Robin_ . And even Clark had to admit, even if he desperately did not want to, that Robin was good. He was cocky, and ready to act, but also… there was something absolutely refreshing about watching him work. He accented Bruce’s darkness more than the brightness of his suit allowed. The children trusted him more than they trusted Bruce when things happened - Clark watched Robin lead three young children covered in tears and grime out of a building while Bruce took down the men that had taken them from their beds and out of danger. He made jokes and energetically engaged _Harley Quinn_ in conversation while they waited for the police and he _fit,_ even if Clark didn’t want to admit it, into the very fabric that was Gotham City. Robin was good. So good, in fact, that he stopped seeming like a ten year old child playing dress up. 

If Clark looked hard enough he thought that he could see his own influence in Robin. He was hopeful in a way that Bruce was too damaged to be. He laughed and flipped and moved so artistically in a style that Clark couldn’t say he had ever seen before. 

Oh he hated it. 

Oh, how it made his stomach churn. 

But Clark could admit, at least to himself, that perhaps it was good for the child and, even more so, it was good for _Bruce_ . Good for Batman. To have that brightness, that _light_ , following after his darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> I strongly dislike this one so please tell me if you liked it at all. <3


End file.
